


MV 18 One Year in Town

by katbear



Series: Master's Voice [18]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbear/pseuds/katbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben hits one year in his new home.  Decisions must be made and actions taken.  Ben still has some bad habits to outgrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MV 18 One Year in Town

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the beta readers who made this a better story (Merry Amelie, Lady Saddlebred). All mistakes are my own.

Monday morning, mid-March

“By all the Saints, what a beautiful smell to be coming up to. Something special going on?”

Ben looked up from setting the table and smiled at his mate.

“Yes, a little something extra for Tara Brenk – she loves my cinnamon raisin bread. Tara does my taxes and estate management paperwork.” Jane turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a cloth, and stopped short. “Oh, my, aren’t you the handsome one today. All dressed up fit for Sunday meeting.”

Qui shrugged. “Ah, ‘tis nothing. Had to be putting on the official dress uniform for going down to the main courthouse today. The legal system is slow as cold molasses on a winter day, and they’re just now getting to trial for an assault from months ago. It’ll be bloody boring sitting on my arse all day while they wait to call the witnesses.”

“Well, Jane’s right. You do look fantastic.” Ben ogled the lean figure, from white Stetson, down the dark green jacket and trousers to his polished cowboy boots. “Good enough to eat.”

“The only thing I’m interested in eating right now is some of that lovely egg and bacon casserole I see on the table, so don’t be getting any ideas, boyo.”

Ben bowed with a flourish. “Your place is prepared, m’lord.”

Rafa was standing in the doorway, smiling at the byplay as Qui snarked back. She quickly moved to get milk and juice from the refrigerator.

Once they were all seated, the first order of business was to get food divvied up, a process accompanied by the usual compliments to the chef. With initial hunger sated, conversations floated easily in the air.

“Does Tara do your whole tax package for you?” asked Qui as he spread strawberry jam on a hot biscuit.

“Yes, she took over from her dad about ten years ago when he retired. She’s certified in a lot of different areas and has always been good to work with. If she doesn’t have an answer, she’ll find the right person who does. She’s got a team with a couple of other CPAs and a lawyer.”

“I’m having her do my paperwork this year, too,” said Rafa. “We’re still sorting out a few things from last year with the insurances and selling my parents' ranch, so I wasn’t sure I understood all the legal requirements.”

“Aye, all that paperwork needs to be done right. My taxes are pretty simple, but ‘tis best to be getting on with it before the big rush in April. I think I’ll pick up the forms while I’m in town today.” Qui looked at Ben, who was on his second helping of casserole. “Shall I be picking up some forms for you, too?”

“Sure, that would be pisser. It’s hard to download stuff with the dial-up, so that’ll save me some time.”

“Ben, I was going through my records and accounts last night, and I saw all your rent receipts. Looks like this month it’s been nigh on a whole year you’ve been here. Quite a year, too, what with everything that’s happened for you. I’m glad you’re still with us.”

“And I’m glad I found you, all of you.” Ben put down his fork. “This isn’t the way I once thought my life would go, but I’m happy here and this is the life I want now.”

“”Twas a lot of changes for all of us these past months, but ‘tis a real family we’ve got now. I didn’t know how much I was missing that sort of thing.” Qui reached over and touched Ben’s arm. “Or how much love can change what you thought you were.”

“A new family, that’s what I feel like, too,” added Rafa quietly. “I was really feeling lost last summer after my family passed away in that fire. Cel and I are both very appreciative of everything you’ve done for us.”

“Well, I’ll add my two cents – it’s been wonderful having you here.” Jane raised her glass of milk. “To friends, family and another good year ahead of us.”

Ben put his cup of coffee up to join the impromptu toast and general chorus of ‘Amen’. He couldn’t help glancing at Qui again before he attacked the rest of his food. This year really had turned his life around.

*** ***

Qui dropped Ben off at Midway Motorcyles on his way to the courthouse. They had done their good-bye kiss and hug before they got in the old truck, so contented themselves with just a wave as Qui drove off.

Ben’s warm, mellow feelings from breakfast gradually dissolved over the course of the morning, replaced by mounting frustration. He was working on the black 2004 Road King a new customer had brought in for refurbishing and painting. The bike was due to go to the paint shop in a few days and Ben thought he had just about finished the mechanical cleaning and fixing that Frank had requested, but the machine kept stubbornly insisting to his tingly fingers and sensitive ears that something was not right.

Arms folded, Ben stood glaring at the motorcycle as Frank came in from the front of the building with a bag from a local sub shop.

“Okay, what’s eating you?” Frank let one corner of his lips lift slightly. “You look like you want to put the poor thing out of its misery.”

Ben gave a huge sigh and let his arms drop as he glanced at his boss. “I’ve been through the troubleshooting checklist at least three times, taken out and cleaned the carburetor twice, checked every hose and connection more times than I can remember. The damned bike OUGHT to be running smooth. I got it to start properly instead of that hard start, all the readings look good and it sounds fine until I let it run and take it out for a test drive. Then I start getting this little bit of hesitation, not much, but something is definitely out of sync and it just doesn’t sound right or feel right.”

“Alright. Let me put this away and we’ll sort it out.” Frank headed for his office.

“Yes, sir.” Ben pulled up the task list on his tablet, grateful that Frank took him seriously.

Frank and Ben spent a half hour going over the work Ben had completed and discussing the corrective actions he had already taken.

“Well, looks like you did a thorough job. Let’s take it out back for another test ride.”

Ben got his jacket and gloves, put on a spare Midway test helmet, then wheeled the bike out through the bay door.

Frank listened intently as Ben started the Road King, let it idle, revved it, and idled it again. “Huh, sounds good.”

“Yes, sir. It starts off fine, but ten minutes of running and it starts getting that little tic.”

“Tell you what, the roads are good today. Can you take it out for about thirty minutes while I finish my sandwich and then we’ll see how it’s going?”

“Sure thing, sir. I’ll meet you back here.”

Ben did a few slow rounds of the big parking lot in back of the stores, then went out on the roads, a bit in town and then a swing around outer roads where he could let the throttle out. He had to admit it was a nice bike, not necessarily his style but a responsive machine. About fifteen minutes into the test, he started to feel the ‘tic’ as he had begun to think of it. It hadn’t gotten noticeably worse by the time he pulled into the alley beside Midway but he still felt it.

Frank was waiting as Ben drew to a stop. “Let's see what we’ve got.”

Ben dismounted and Frank got on. Frank closed his eyes and listened, his head tilted a little as he let the bike idle, revved it slowly and then brought it back down. Finally, he shut the engine off and sat for a moment.

“Yeah, you know, there is something off. Not by much, but you’re right, definitely a little something not right there. Hmmm…..” He sat for a few more moments. “Bring it back in. I want to get the maintenance records they dropped off with the bike.”

Ben brought the Road King into the open bay and set it up on the tarp designating the project work space. He put away helmet, gloves and jacket.

Frank motioned Ben into his office. He had a folder open with several maintenance receipts.

“Okay, this one’s kinda tricky. You did the right things that should have fixed the problems you were seeing. There is one other thing that’s not on most of the standard checklists.” Frank pulled out a sheet and handed it to Ben. “Generally, as the air intake manifold gaskets wear out over time, you tend to get intermittent problems when they start leaking.” He held up a finger. “Sometimes, though, you can also get running issues like that little hesitation.”

Ben looked at the sheet. “This says the gaskets were replaced about two years ago, though.”

“Right. Normally we recommend they be changed out every two to three years, so this one’s right at the lower limit. Could be they just wore out, or got nicked or weren’t properly installed. Given everything else you’ve already done, this is the next thing I’d try. We should have several sets in the spares, so get your lunch, then go ahead and change out the gaskets. We’ll do another test run after you’re finished.”

Ben nodded as he handed Frank the sheet. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

First priority in Ben’s mind was to make sure they had the right pieces on hand, so he went to the parts room behind the heavy steel doors at the end of the bay and pulled those out. Satisfied with his acquisitions, he got his lunch pail from his locker and settled at the table in the employee break room to enjoy the food Jane had packed. A half hour later, Ben polished off the last of a delicious brownie, cleaned up and went back to work.

By two o’clock, Ben had finished the repairs and taken the bike out for a successful test ride.

“Sounds like almost everything’s taken care of.” Frank looked over the task list on the tablet and made some notations. “Replacing those gaskets cleared up that issue, and it should run like new again.”

“Yes, sir, she sounds sweet now. Thanks for letting me know about the gaskets. Should we also be doing a pressure test?”

“That’s a good idea, just to be on the safe side. We’ll do that and those last few things after we get the bike back from the paint shop. Which reminds me, this is good timing on the mechanicals. Billy Delmar called a little while ago and they’ve got some spare time – they want the bike tomorrow to start the prep work, so I’ll get the truck laid on.”

Ben’s reply was cut off as Karen, team leader for parts, accessories and ordering, stuck her head in over the open top of the dutch door. 

“Hey, guys. Timmy’s back!” Karen disappeared again as quickly as she had appeared.

Ben noticed Frank had a broad smile at the news. “Who’s Timmy?”

“Timothy Jones. He’s Dennis and Margaret’s oldest son. In his spare time he’s a captain in the National Guard – they activated his unit to go to Afghanistan, but they must be back now.” Frank was walking toward the door.

Ben followed close behind.

“That’s him, making the rounds.”

A slender young man in his late twenties was shaking hands and talking to all of the front shop people. His build was athletic and showed off well his Class A green uniform with its two rows of ribbons on the jacket. He had Dennis’s sandy hair but Margaret’s steel-grey eyes. The enthusiastic reception he was getting showed he was clearly popular.

Timmy waved at them. “Hey, Frank! Need to talk to ya in a little bit!” 

“Sure thing. Just come on back.”

They watched a moment more as Dennis and Margaret both got big hugs, then returned to their work.

Frank was prepping some parts for their motor trike conversion and Ben was cleaning up the Road King’s project area when Timmy Jones came out into the bay area.

“Frank! Lookin’ good.” They shook hands and hugged.

“You’re looking damned good yourself. Glad to see you made it back in one piece.” Frank gestured to Ben to join them. “Timmy, I don’t know if you got the word that Bobby Torvald left last year to take over as head of maintenance at Ruger Ranch, but Ben here has become my right-hand man. Timmy Jones, Ben Kennan.”

“An assistant trying to learn how to keep up and do better is probably more accurate,” said Ben with a self-deprecating smile when he shook hands. “Glad to meet you, sir.”

“Hey, if Frank says you’re OK, then you’re doing good.” Timmy laughed and punched Ben lightly on the upper arm. “Look, I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but I do want to talk to Frank about something important.”

“Sure, I’ve got plenty of work I should be doing.”

“Cool. Frank, if we could use your office, I’d appreciate it. Ben, great to meet you, hang in there.”

Ben nodded as the other two men walked toward Frank’s office. Ben was curious, of course, but knew it was probably none of his business. Despite the briefness of their first contact, he decided he liked Timmy Jones.

Twenty minutes later, the door to Frank’s office opened. Timmy came out, went up front and returned in a few minutes followed by another man in slacks, blazer and tie. The door was closed again.

“Huh, wonder what that’s all about?” Ben looked toward the door for a moment, then shrugged and went back to getting the Road King ready for its truck ride in the morning.

Ben completed everything he could do on the Road King for the day and turned his attention to finishing the prep work Frank had started for the trike conversion. This was a project they had been mostly putting off except for ordering parts so they could finish some other, more urgent jobs. With most of those out of the way now, Frank wanted to push the trike through.

“Hey, Ben, can you come over here for a minute?”

Ben carefully put the part he had been cleaning rust from down on the bench. “Sure thing.” He wiped his hands on a rag and walked quickly over to where Frank was standing with Timmy and a stranger. He eyed the man as he approached – about his own height but stockier, squarish face, buzz cut, dark brown eyes and hair, and what looked like some kind of scar running up the left side of his neck.

“What’s up?”

“Ben, I want you to meet Kazimierz Lisowski.” Frank looked at the man for a moment. “Did I get that right, Kah-ZEEM-yesh?”

“Yes, sir, but Kaz is fine.” Kaz smiled, a bit of a lopsided grin that went up more on the right side of his face than the left. “I like that better than ‘Ski.”

“Okay, Kaz it is. Kaz, this is Ben Kennan.” Frank waited a moment as the two men shook hands. “Ben is my only full-time guy right now, and he’s in charge if I’m not around. Like I explained, we’ll have more people coming in later when the workload picks up, usually around May and June, but we’re still in the slow season doing mostly specialty jobs.”

Frank turned to Ben. “We’re taking Kaz on as a probationary part-timer. He’s got a strong background as a mechanic on trucks and stuff, not much on motorcycles but we’ll teach him that, and he’s also worked on specialty tools and welding. I’m gonna take him upstairs and get his paperwork taken care of. He’ll start Wednesday at nine.”

“Yes, sir. Welcome aboard, Kaz. Look forward to working with you.”

“Thanks. I’ve heard great things about Midway, so I’m really excited about this opportunity. See you Wednesday.” 

Ben liked the firm handshake and smile, already forming a good opinion of his new teammate. He nodded and went back toward the bench, but couldn’t help but overhear the final conversation.

“Hey, Kaz, I gotta go spend some time with my folks, but you have my cell number. Geedog, Thumper and Jocko live around here, too, so if there’s anything you need for you or the family, you call, got that?”

“Damn, sir, you guys already done a lot for me…”

“Bullshit. Recovery under fire is something you never forget and my people know damned well what they owe you for all the times you pulled our asses out of fucking hell. So you call or I will personally find you and kick your ass for being stupid.”

“Yes, sir. Roger. Wilco.” There was a tight smile on Kaz’s face as he nodded.

“Good. You take care.”

Timmy and Kaz bumped fists with a soft, “FIDO,” before Timmy tossed a casual two-fingered salute and headed out of the bay.

Frank and Kaz followed him to go upstairs to the admin offices.

Ben looked at the door as it slowly swung itself shut, wondering what all that was about. Finally he just shrugged, shook his head and went back to work.

*** ***

Bootsteps thumped on the floor above. Ben raised his head, listened for a moment as the steps receded toward the kitchen, then looked at the clock. After eight o’clock. He hoped that was Qui finally getting home and decided he should let his mate have a chance to eat. He sighed and bent back over the papers he was working on. He had given up on the FAFSA for a bit and started reviewing his budget, trying to match up his income with known costs vs. his savings and costs for the university. He wrinkled his nose at the annual renewals he would need soon for Myrna’s registration and insurance.

Intent on a spreadsheet he had pulled up on his laptop, Ben didn’t hear their basement door softly open and close, nor did he hear the quiet steps of stocking feet.

“Jesus Christ!” Ben almost jumped up out of his chair when lips descended on the back of his neck. He panted several times to calm his racing heart as he glared up at Qui, who was standing behind him in his uniform, jacket open.

“You need to be working on your situational awareness, boyo.” Qui grinned. “One of these days it might be some horrible monster sneaking up on you.”

“And you’re not one?”

“Me boyo!” Qui drew himself fully upright, the very picture of affronted dignity. “I’m only horrible to the bad guys and belligerent drunks. "Tis very polite I am to everyone else, and I’m particularly nice to pretty young damsels in distress.” He scrunched up his face for a moment. “Although perhaps I should be adding pretty young boys in distress to my list of favorites.”

Ben blew a loud raspberry as he stood up. “C’mere, you.” He hugged Qui hard, then tilted his head up for a long kiss. Ben pulled Qui over to sit with him on the edge of the bed, and they kissed again.

“Ahhh, that was good.” Ben leaned in against Qui, an arm wrapped around his waist. “How was your day?”

“Mostly boring, sitting around on my arse, twenty minutes of testifying, more sitting around on my arse before I could leave and then had to swing by headquarters to finish paperwork I could have been doing if I hadn’t been stuck in that damned courthouse. I suppose you could be calling it successful, though. We got word that the idiot was found guilty. Oh, I also picked up some tax forms and the booklet – the extra set I got for you is on my desk.”

“Well, that’s something, and thanks for getting the forms. Most of my day was pretty routine except for a couple of things. Frank helped me fix a problem on a bike, so I learned something new. I got to meet Timmy Jones – he’s Dennis and Margaret’s son and apparently just got back from Afghanistan with his National Guard unit. He seemed to be really well-liked by everybody. And we got a new part-time guy, Kaz Lisowski. He starts Wednesday. Timmy brought him in; I guess they were friends in the Army, so I think he asked Frank to take Kaz on. I don’t know much about him yet, but on first impression Kaz seems nice.”

Ben snuggled a little closer. “Kaz looks like he’s several years older than me, so we’ll see how that plus being a friend of the owners' son works out. But Frank made it clear I’m his ‘right-hand man’, as he put it, so that was pretty wicked.”

“Sounds like your day was surely more interesting than mine. And I wouldn’t be upsetting yourself too much about the new guy unless it really does become a problem. If your boss supports you, you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.” Ben scowled at his desk. “Besides, I’ve got other things on my mind right now.”

“Aye, looks like you’ve been busy. Getting ready to turn in your university application now that it's been a year?”

“Right. I’ve had the application finished for a while, and I’ve got my rent receipts and pay stubs from last March to establish residency. That will make a big difference in tuition costs, and I’ll put the package in the mail tomorrow. It’s the damned money I’m worried about.” Ben shook his head. “The stupid dial-up is so slow I went to the library a few weeks ago and managed to download the university’s current catalog and fee schedule. I’ve been tracking down numbers to put on my spreadsheet - the tuition’s not bad at resident rates but every time I dig a little deeper there’s another frigging mandatory fee to pay. And that’s not even touching stuff like textbooks and lab fees. Being part-time will help a little with fees, but it’s still adding up to more than I thought it would be.”

“Well, there’s a lot of ways to be getting your hands on –"

“No.” Ben stood up and faced Qui. “I already told you I don’t want you paying for my school.”

“Jaysus, touchy, touchy, boyo,” said Qui mildly. “I was only going to ask if you’ve looked at all the possibilities for scholarships or aid or maybe tuition assistance at your job.”

“Oh.” Ben had the decency to look contrite as he bit his lower lip for a moment. “Sorry. Still need to work on that, I guess.”

“Aye, but you’re getting better. So?” Qui raised one eyebrow.

“Yeah, umm…” Ben turned to stare at his desk. “I’ve been having issues with that frigging FAFSA, that Federal form everyone’s supposed to fill out for financial aid.” He shuffled over and dropped heavily onto his desk chair.

Qui stood up and went over to lean a hip on the heavy wooden desk. “Anything I can help with?”

“Nah, there’s a couple of things really. I don’t have a tax return from last year, and they want a copy of that.” Ben looked up and shrugged. “After I left home the only income I had was from occasional odd jobs while I was on the road with Myrna, so I didn’t file a return. It’s a bigger problem with all the information they want about my family. They expect the family to contribute to the cost, but I don’t fit into any of their definitions of an ‘emancipated minor’. I’m having trouble working around that.”

“Aye, I could see why you’d be having problems.” Qui moved over to rub Ben’s shoulders. “What about work?”

Ben closed his eyes and relaxed under his mate’s ministrations. “Hmmm… that might be a possibility. I’ll have to look at the employee handbook again. It’s kind of a cafeteria approach, you know, you get so much of this and a little of that but not one of everything. I’ll have to see what I’d have to trade off and how much tuition help I could get.”

“If it’s like the government assistance, they’re not after basing it on need, but there’s usually budget restrictions.”

“I think it was something like that, total dollar amount per year is what I remember, but not how much.”

“Have you thought about talking to the university aid office and your HR people? You don’t have to be giving them all your background information, but they could probably tell you more in person than you’d be getting from a book.”

Ben sighed as those lovely hands stopped kneading. When a finger tapped his nose, he opened his eyes.

“Couldn’t hurt to go talk to them.” Qui was standing next to Ben.

Ben looked up with a smile that was more grimace than grin. “Yeah, I know. Alright, I’ll see what I can do. If I’m going to the university for that, maybe I can take the application, too. That way I can make sure it gets there and double-check that they really did get all my transcripts.”

“Sounds like a plan, boyo.”

*** ***

Ben checked the weather predictions for the next week before calling the university aid office on his morning break since it would be much easier and faster to get there if he could use Myrna, even if it meant paying for guest parking. He was pleasantly surprised when the young lady who answered the phone told him he could come in Thursday afternoon at four and that they would also have someone who could help with his application if he had questions on that. Frank also approved his request to trade some hours so he could leave at three on Thursday.

Although not thrilled about the necessity for the discussion, Ben mustered his resolve and headed upstairs on his lunch break to see if he could talk to one of Margaret’s assistants about the benefit package. Apparently this was his lucky day because Margaret was out at some small business group luncheon, but Greg, a senior assistant, was in.

“Sure, I deal with benefits as part of my job. Come in and sit down.” Greg was in his forties, thin, soft-spoken and genial. A large bowl of fruit sat on a side table in his office. “Help yourself to a snack. I just got in some fresh pears if you like those.”

“Thanks. Do you mind if I take it downstairs to eat with my lunch?” Ben picked out a pear and sat down.

“Not at all. I’d rather people eat the fruit than candy.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m kind of the eco, healthy food nut up here. So, what can I do for you?”

Ben launched into his prepared questions, asking about his options, what the tuition assistance covered and how to change his benefits.

Greg pulled up various slides on his large monitor and carefully went over all the possible choices in the plan, various trade-offs between benefits if he wanted to add the help for his classes and printed charts of the most likely combinations Ben indicated he was interested in.

“That was great. I really appreciate all the help.” Ben stood up with his sheets of paper.

“All part of the service. Even if I didn’t enjoy the job, Margaret makes sure the staff understands that our paychecks come from all the work the people on the first floor put in.” Greg stood up to shake hands. “Don’t forget about the deadlines to request the changes for the open season. The sooner you get your new package forms in, the sooner we can take care of that for you.”

“I will. Thanks again.” Ben went downstairs to put his new pages away in his locker and grab a hurried sandwich to go with his pear.

Qui would be home late again as he had promised to meet with a Scout group at the WCC, so after dinner Ben retrieved the tax forms and IRS Pub 17 from Qui’s desk. He also got out his W2 forms he had received from Midway at the beginning of February. 

“Ok, let’s take a look at this year’s form and see if I can’t do a quick first pass,” Ben muttered to himself as he perused the material. “Yeah… uh huh… that part looks pretty straightforward.” Ben got a pencil and one of the tax forms. “The Midway stuff is easy.” He filled in some numbers. “So, part-time money from the first couple of months, moved to full-time the rest of the year…” He sat back and looked at what he had done so far. “Alright, throw in the personal exemption and standard deduction… hmmm, overall rough total of about $13K less the deductions takes it down to a little under $2K…. where’s that frigging tax table?” 

Ben flipped through the Pub 17. “Right, here’s this bit. Adjusted income drops me into the lowest tax bracket.” Ben scribbled in some more numbers. “Well, it looks like I might be due a refund. Wait a minute, what’s this thing about an Earned Income Tax Credit? I thought you had to have kids to get that kind of thing?” Ben found the pertinent section. “Huh, that’s pisser. Should be a credit of about seventy bucks because I’m below the minimum income level.”

“Right, this doesn’t look too bad so far.” Ben squinted at one section. “Umm, shit, there’s the thing about reporting all income or go to jail like Al Capone.” He reluctantly pulled up a spreadsheet on his laptop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s all this stuff from the odd jobs I did when I first got to town last March. I don’t have any paperwork on those except the list in my spreadsheet. And a couple of those were in-kind payments, especially some stuff I did for Jane.” He chewed on the inside of his lip as he struggled through the Pub 17. “Jesus fucking Christ, they want a regular 1040 and some other damned form?” He blew out a sharp breath at another section. “You got to be shitting me. Self-employment tax? It was just some odd jobs to get food on the table. I didn’t report those couple of cash jobs I had when I was on the road with Myrna, but that was the only ‘income’ for that year.”

Ben started when the basement door opened and closed. He had been seriously considering not reporting the odds and ends from the previous March. “Shit, I can't do that when I live with a cop, even if he’s just a forest cop.” He slammed the lid of his laptop down as Qui came in the bedroom, already changed into sweats.

“How’s my boyo tonight?” Qui had a big smile as he extended his arms to invite a hug.

Ben rose and moved swiftly to capture the proffered embrace. He held tight for a long moment before raising his head for a kiss.

“It’s good to see you. How’d the WCC thing with the scouts go?” Ben lingered in Qui’s arms.

“'Twas grand. Lots of bright young boys and girls who were really interested in the animal rescue work the WCC does and how they work with the Forest Service teams. I’ll be getting some of them set up to do ride-alongs with the government biologists and such.” Qui ran a hand through Ben’s hair. “’Tis only a quarter to nine. Would you be up for that Pushing Hands session I promised you?”

Normally, Ben would have jumped at the opportunity, but with all the money-related issues weighing on his mind, he wasn’t sure he would get much out of it. On the other hand, maybe it would be a good way to stop thinking about all that so much. He gave an internal shrug – if nothing else, it was nice to have some of Qui’s time just for him.

“Sure, that will be pisser. I’ll help you clear some space.”

Once the furniture had been moved back, Ben and Qui stood facing each other near the fireplace. They both took several deep, slow breaths before bowing. When Ben looked up, Qui was clearly in his teaching role, his expression and body language signifying the differences in this relationship.

“Sidai, are you prepared to start?”

“Yes, Sifu.” Ben nodded as he dropped into his student role.

“We shall begin with stretching, then we shall work on the two hands exercise.”

After several minutes of stretching, Qui had Ben assume the bow stance as his starting position.

“Close your eyes, relax, breathe slowly and find your center.”

Ben felt more than heard Qui as his teacher moved around him. He listened to Qui’s minor corrections to his form and responded with adjustments.

“Sidai, what is the key consideration in both the Solo Form and Pushing Hands?”

“Awareness of the center, Sifu.” Ben made a conscious effort to lessen the tension in his body, to allow himself to pull energy into his middle. His shoulders dropped and he followed each breath as it entered his nose, released its oxygen and exited through his mouth.

“What are the primary principles of movement?”

Ben knew this question but it had been several days since he had last studied the notebook Qui had put together for him. “There are three key principles of movement.” Ben paused for two slow inhalations and let the words come to him. “Rooting, yielding and release of power. They deal with stability in stance and balance, flowing with incoming forces and applying energy to an opponent while still being rooted and yielding as needed.” 

“That is correct. Are you rooted now?”

“Yes, Sifu, I believe so. My weight is distributed and I am comfortable in my position.”

“Keep your eyes closed. Where am I now?”

“Ummm….” Ben thought he had sensed Qui moving around him in a circle, but he had lost track of his position when Qui had started asking questions. “I’m not sure.”

A soft movement of air and a sensation of warmth shifted slowly to Ben’s left, completing part of a circuit. Ben was certain there was a presence behind him that stopped close to him.

“And now?”

Yes, definitely that was to his rear. “You are behind me, Sifu.” Ben’s tone was clear and firm.

More movement going around him, but it rapidly became faint until Ben could detect no sign of it.

“And now?”

Ben licked his lips. “You are too far away for me to tell for certain, but your voice sounds like it is coming from in front of me.”

“You may open your eyes now.”

“Oh.” Ben blinked as he swung his head a little to see that Qui was standing almost directly to his left. “Guess I messed that up.”

“Voices, or any sound, can be deceptive, Sidai, but you can train yourself to better awareness in using all of your senses through practice and learning to be mindful of what is around you. Now, you have been holding your stance for several minutes, so let us do a few short stretches to release tension before we begin the exercise.”

Ben hadn’t felt the tightness building in his shoulders and back, so was grateful for the respite. They were quickly back in place, each holding the bow stance, one hand touching in the space between them, wrists crossed and their free hand behind them.

“We will begin slowly. Remain centered within yourself but maintain awareness of actions and reactions. You may start first. Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

Ben tentatively moved his hand and tried to push Qui’s hand away. He worked at keeping his weight centered over his feet as he shifted to stay in balance.

Qui easily slipped Ben’s pressure and applied a countering push.

Ben tried to focus on just feeling Qui’s movements, but he felt clumsy and frustrated with his lack of progress.

“Circular movements to divert attacks, small movements with minimal exertion, Sidai.”

Again Ben centered himself as he pushed with a consciously smaller motion, but Qui seemed to barely move as they pushed and countered.

“It is not a shoving match, Sidai. You are trying to control my energy – control that and control of the body will follow.”

“Yes, Sidai.” Ben felt his frustration growing as he seemed to be making the same mistakes. His eyes started to wander to other parts of the room, lighting briefly on tax papers spread out on the small table. That diverted his thoughts to his own problems with money issues.

A sudden tap on his chin brought Ben back. He tried to muscle his response to Qui’s push but Qui easily brushed him aside and tapped his chin three more times.

“Stop.”

Ben let his arms drop to his sides and swallowed.

“You are not focusing, Sidai. Where is your head?”

“Sorry, Sifu. I guess I’ve had a lot on my mind with all the stuff about money and school and taxes.” Ben stared down at the floor. “There’s just a ton of things I’m trying to make work.”

“I understand, but you also need to learn to focus on one thing at a time. If you center yourself and keep your focus only on the Tai Chi, it will give you fresh energy to tackle your other problems. Do twenty pushups in proper form, and we will begin again.”

“Yes, Sifu.”

Facing each other once again, Qui raised two fingers and put them gently on Ben’s forehead. “Clear your mind,” he said softly. He then moved the two fingers to touch Ben’s belly. “Center yourself here. Gather your energies. There is only here and only now.”

Ben let himself relax, slowed his breathing and felt a warm spot deep in his middle. He stared at the point where the back of his wrist crossed Qui’s and let that fill his head.

“Remember, this is about awareness and controlling energy, yours and your opponent’s. Keep it slow, small, and simple. You may begin.”

The next ten minutes went more smoothly. Ben did not work so hard at trying to make his pushes dominant, giving himself to the gentle back and forth, shifting his weight while keeping his feet in place. Qui still got through several times, using a sharper rap to his chin to emphasize the slip, but staying in the rhythm of their movements.

“Enough.” Qui stepped back and let his arms drop to his sides.

Ben moved his feet together and shook out his shoulders. He could feel himself sweating, more from the concentration of effort than the physical demands of the gentle movements.

“That was much better, Sidai. Take a few moments to rest, then I want you to do a twenty-four Yang at normal speed.”

“Yes, Sifu.” Ben closed his eyes, did some slow shoulder rolls and twists. He moved into the center of the open area and assumed the opening stance.

“You may begin when ready. Listen for my corrections.”

Ben nodded. He took a moment to center himself, then brought his arms forward and up. This was now familiar territory for him, and he felt a comfortable warmth inside as his body moved through the various stances. Qui’s corrections were now much smaller, focused on minor issues of form and balance, but nothing serious enough to stop the exercise. By the time he brought his arms down again for the closing position, he felt truly relaxed and more at peace with himself.

“That was good, Sifu. You have clearly improved from when we began. Some of your transitions, in particular, need continued practice but mastery of those will come with time. What are your questions on either Pushing Hands or the Solo Form?”

Ben thought a moment. “It is clear to me that I still have a long way to go in learning not just to become centered but to stay centered when I have outside distractions. I really felt the difference between the Pushing Hands, which is still very new for me, and the Solo Form, where I have had a chance to develop more muscle memory, so I don’t have to work quite as hard on the physical aspects of the exercise.”

“Very good observations, Sidai, and they agree with what I was seeing. Continue to study the notes, and we will try to find more time to practice in the future.”

“Thank you, Sifu.”

They bowed to each other. It took a few seconds for each to transition back to their normal selves, but by the time the furniture was back in place the change was complete. They sat down together on the sofa.

“Wow, this Pushing Hands stuff is going to take a while. It still doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Qui wrapped an arm around Ben and pulled him close. “It’s a different application of what you’ve already learned. Give it time and you’ll be seeing and feeling improvement. As for the other distractions, if you want to be talking about any of it, you know you can come to me even if you’re just wanting to blow off steam.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ben snuggled deeper into Qui’s warmth. “I can be kind of hard-headed about staying independent and I don’t mean it to grate, so I’ll try to remember. I do appreciate all your help.”

“My pleasure, love.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other and their love.

*** ***

Kaz was already waiting when Frank and Ben came in the next morning. Frank gave Kaz a tour of all the work and storage spaces, got him on the network and issued his toolbox while Ben retrieved two motorcycles from the warehouse in back of the store and set them up. One was an older resale Harley Davidson and the other one of the new Honda dirt bikes they had added to their inventory several months earlier.

"Ben, we ready to go?" Frank sauntered in from his office, a steaming mug of mid-morning coffee in one hand.

"Yes, sir." Ben pointed to the bikes, positioned on a large service mat. Kaz had his toolbox out and had pulled over one of the new heavy-duty rolling stools that Frank had bought the previous day. He had put on a set of the gray coveralls that temporary and part-time employees wore, in contrast to the blue Midway coveralls that Ben and Frank wore.

"Good. So, Kaz, looks like you've got a solid background in fixing trucks, right?"

"Yes, sir. My primary specialty was wheeled vehicle mechanic. I worked on just about anything with four or more wheels, from the small utility vehicles up to the heavy cargo haulers, the wrecker and a few of the smaller tracked vehicles. I also ran the recovery team my last couple of years."

"Okay. We're going to strip down these two bikes, so you can see how they are set up. Our new motorcycles are mostly Harleys, but we also carry the Honda bikes plus various resale bikes. We also service whatever bikes customers bring in. If you hang around long enough, you'll start to understand all the various models and the differences between them, but we've got or can get manuals on most bikes, so don't worry about the details at this point."

"I understand. We used manuals in the Army, especially for the equipment we didn't work on very often. I found that troubleshooting or routine maintenance went better if you start with the same process."

"Sounds like you're going to fit right in." Frank smiled. "Alright, we'll start with some basics. For example, Harleys have four-stroke engines but are designed a little differently from others…"

Ben listened intently as they went through the major systems. Occasionally Frank would ask him to give an overview of a sub-system and he helped Kaz with the tear-down when it was better to have two people working together. He was surprised to see that Kaz used the rolling stool most of the time instead of standing, and he seemed to have some trouble getting up from a kneeling position, but he didn't feel comfortable asking about it and put those thoughts aside.

The training proceeded swiftly as Kaz seemed to be a quick study and was well versed in the use of tools. About an hour in, Ben was handing a wrench to Kaz. Normally he appeared to use his right hand as much as possible, but he was intently studying the piston arrangement in the opened engine and reached out with his left.

For the first time, Ben got a really close look at Kaz's left hand as he accepted the wrench. He couldn't stop himself from a small start as he stared at the three-fingered grip and forgot to let go.

Kaz looked up at Ben, then down at where both of their hands were on the wrench.

"Uh, shit, sorry. Didn't mean to stare." Ben hurriedly let go and took a step back.

"This little thing?" Kaz waved the wrench that he held with only a thumb and first two fingers, the two smaller fingers mostly missing. "Just a war souvenir. Don't worry about it. I hardly even notice it myself anymore."

"Right, sure." Ben nodded with an embarrassed smile and quickly found a new task as Frank didn't stop for the short byplay. He wondered if the missing fingers were connected with the parts of the scar he could see peeking from the edge of Kaz's t-shirt, then sternly reminded himself that was definitely none of his business.

Kaz had brown-bagged, so he and Ben ate lunch together in the employee break room. A couple of Karen's people also joined them. Kaz deftly deflected questions about his Army war experiences by asking his own questions about the others and their thoughts about living here. Ben did find out that Kaz was twenty-eight, grew up around the Detroit area and that it was a tradition for young men in his family to join the military, which he had done right out of high school. The two women cooed over the pictures of his wife Cynthia and their almost three-year-old boy, Howard. Kaz mentioned that they were still trying for another baby, and they had moved to Wyoming because most of Cynthia's family was out here. Ben didn't ask, but from the prayer he'd said before lunch and the cross hanging around his neck, he inferred that Kaz was probably Catholic.

After lunch, Frank had them get out the welding equipment and some practice pieces. He quizzed both of them about safety procedures and use of the gear.

"Jesus, man, you sound like you've been doing this for years," said Ben as they took a short break for Frank to answer a phone call.

"Actually, I have. Specialty tools was my secondary in the Army, so I had to know how to use, teach and supervise on oxyacetylene, electric arc, and inert gas welding machines plus the heavy-duty tools like grinders, lathes, drill presses and all that. I really love fixing stuff, you know, taking something broken and making it whole again."

"Yeah, so do I, but mostly just on motorcycles. The bikes are my real love. You planning on being a mechanic as a career?"

"Kind of. I want to do welding full-time eventually; I was always happy as a pig in mud when I got to do that part of the job. I'm going back to school part-time on the GI bill to get caught up on the latest stuff and get all my certifications. It pays pretty decently once you get the certs."

"Okay, sounds like a plan." Frank came back out of his office, and for the rest of the afternoon Ben was left wondering how he could possibly compete with the kind of knowledge and experience Kaz clearly already had.

*** ***

Qui had asked how Kaz's first day went, and Ben had to admit that Kaz seemed to be far ahead of him in a lot of things. He must have sounded pretty despondent, because Qui made a point of reminding him that everybody was different and that he, Ben Kennan, knew quite a bit more about motorcycles, which was the main product that Midway dealt with. Qui had also asked if he was still on to meet with the university aid people and had given him another reassuring pep talk, reminding Ben that he was in control of how much information he wanted to impart about his situation. Still, Ben had a restless night, with hazy dreams of Frank promoting a string of strangers above him interspersed with sequences of what might go wrong at his meetings with the university financial people.

Fortunately, on Thursday the weather held up as predicted, so Ben was able to get a little extra sleep, given that he would be taking Myrna to work instead of the bus. He made sure he had all of his folders, one with his application, one with extra copies of his residency and family status proofs, another with the FAFSA form he had tried to complete and finally, one with other questions he wanted to ask. 

It was a slow day at work, mostly dreary and finicky as he and Frank continued the final prep for the numerous parts and bits they needed for the trike conversion. It wasn't until almost two-thirty that Frank was satisfied that everything was ready, and the bike to be converted had been fully cleaned up and prepped also.

"Ok, that should do it. We can start first thing in the morning and should be able to make good progress now that everything's been squared away. Before you leave, please bring that Harley bike back in from the warehouse that we had Kaz working on – I'm going to have him start on the monthly 10 percent inventory and then tear the bike down again for the practice. I'll handle cleanup tonight, so as soon's the bike's ready you can take off."

"Yes, sir. Thanks." He took care of the tasks and changed into one of his Midway polo shirts so he was wearing something better than just a t-shirt.

Ben parked Myrna, gathered his folders from a pannier and walked up to the administration building. The main floor seemed to be mostly various student services. Between leaving early and making good time, Ben had almost forty-five minutes before his appointment with the financial aid office, so he went first to the Admissions and Records group near the entrance. There were about a half dozen students in the waiting area, and a young woman pointed him toward the sign-in station.

Ben stared down at the register a moment – obviously he didn't have a student number since he wasn't enrolled, so he wasn't sure what to put. He thought about it for a moment, then finally decided just to write an optimistic 'pending'.

About ten minutes later, Ben heard his name called and went over to the desk.

"Ben Kennan? I see it says you have a pending ID. Are you an incoming summer-session student?"

"No, I realize that's kind of premature. Actually, I've brought in my application to transfer in for the fall session. I was hoping somebody could take a look at it to make sure I didn’t make any mistakes."

"Oh." The young man's right eyebrow went up. "I don't think I've ever had somebody apply as a transfer in person. Hang on just a sec." He went over to a row of offices in back and stuck his head in one for a moment, then came back. "You're in luck. Come on, Doc Merrick can talk to you."

Ben put on a confident smile as he was ushered into the immaculate office. A broad-shouldered man in jeans, a blue plaid western shirt and a bolo tie with a silver cowboy slider stood up for a hearty handshake.

"Hi, I'm Deveret Merrick, assistant dean for Admissions, but folks just call me Doc. Please, have a seat." He waited until both were sitting down before continuing. "I understand you want to transfer in?"

"Yes, sir. I already requested all my transcripts months ago, but I've been waiting until I had a full year in Wyoming so I could get resident tuition rates." Ben pulled out the folder with his forms and handed it over. "I really like what I've seen and heard about the university, so I want to finish my engineering degree here. I have an appointment with the financial aid office a little later this afternoon, so I decided to bring in the admission package today also. I was hoping one of your people could perhaps take a quick look to make sure I didn't make any major mistakes and verify that you have my transcripts."

"Of course, no problem at all. I'd be happy to give it a once-over myself while you're here." Doc opened the folder and began reading Ben's submission. He nodded occasionally, made a few pencil tick marks and fifteen minutes later raised his head. "Let's pull up what we have on you in the computer." He turned to his system, logged in and typed Ben's name. Within seconds a file came up. He took a moment to confirm Ben's name and social security number matched the file and began running a finger down the entries. "Hmm, good college, looks like all the basic prerequisites are already covered, advanced math is there, engineering courses. And… right, your high school transcript and test scores are also here as well. Nice, several AP courses. Everything with excellent grades."

Merrick nodded approvingly as he swung his chair back to face Ben. "My folks will, of course, go over everything in more detail, including your proofs of residency. On this first pass I don't see any problems and it looks like you have more supporting documents than the mandatory ones and your check for the admission fee is here. Quite frankly, I'm very impressed with your background and I think you'll make a fine addition to our student body. I will see that your package gets to one of our evaluators first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that. Could I ask about how long it usually takes before I should expect a response?"

"Of course, that's a good question. We have a rolling admissions process here, so we don't stack everything up." Doc grinned. "Wyoming doesn't exactly have a huge population, so we're always on the hunt for good students, new and transfers. Your package looks quite straightforward, so you should be hearing from us in about three weeks. Once you're admitted, we'd like you to attend our orientation and sit down with a guidance counselor to go over your placements and start working up your course schedule. The engineering department will want to talk to you about your schedule, since you've indicated you will be attending part-time. Do you plan to continue working full-time?"

"Yes, sir. I don't really have much choice since I'm on my own."

"Then I wish you the best of luck. It's going to be a challenge for a program like engineering, but we're here to help you meet your goals." Doc stood up and offered his hand.

Ben stood also and shook hands. "Thanks again, sir. I look forward to enrolling here."

Somewhat buoyed by the results of his meeting with Doc, the knot of tension and resentment for having agreed to this visit that had been building all day in Ben's stomach wasn't quite so tightly wound when he was called into a high-walled cubicle to meet with Cherise Klevner, one of the aid specialists. She was about fifty with very short hair and beautiful medium-brown skin, with crinkles around her warm black eyes.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Kennan, and let's see what I can help you with. How about you give me a little background on your situation and your questions."

"Ben, please. I've just submitted my application to transfer in as a junior to finish my Bachelor's in mechanical engineering. I plan on starting this fall, but I'll need to go part-time. I'm on my own and I work full-time. I've managed to put aside a little in savings, but I've still got to pay my bills and stuff. I've looked at the catalog, and I'm not sure I can cover all the fees and tuition costs even with doing part-time and trying to set aside more in savings between now and August. I tried to fill out that FAFSA form, but I'm having trouble with parts of it. I guess what I need is some help with that and with figuring out what my potential options are for this fall."

"Alright, a good start. How old are you, Ben?"

"Sorry, I should have told you that. I'm twenty-two and I do meet the state residency requirements as of a few weeks ago." Ben offered his folder with the receipts.

Cherise looked at the contents, then nodded. "You're good on the residency, and that will certainly help significantly with your tuition costs. We'll have to consider your age as we look at the FAFSA, though. Do you know if you have any transcripts in our system yet?"

"Yes, ma'am. Doc Merrick in Admissions just looked through my package, said that part looks good and he was able to see my transcripts on his computer."

"Good. If you could wait just a moment, I'd like to look at your transcripts, also."

"Of course."

Cherise turned to her computer and brought up Ben's documents. She nodded approvingly. "You've done some very good work, Ben. I don't think you'll have any problems getting admitted and I suspect you'll have enough credits to place you as an advanced junior. That will mean fewer courses you'll need to take. The Dean of Engineering will have final say on that, of course, but he's generally quite willing to give credit when he legitimately can. Let's take a look at the FAFSA and you can tell me what specific areas you're having difficulty with."

Ben retrieved that folder and pulled out the long form he had printed out, all ten pages of it. "My general personal information wasn't really a problem, but I'm not sure about the tax return. I didn't do one last spring because I didn't really have much of an income – I had left home and was living mostly on savings as I traveled."

"Since this is already March and we're past the 1 March priority date, we're really more interested in your tax return covering last year, not the year before. Have you completed that yet?"

"I've done a first pass on it and I'm just working on a few last bits. I moved here last March, got a part-time job and then was moved up to full-time at the beginning of June, so that's pretty straight-forward. I can finish it and get it turned in within the next week." He made a note to himself to get his ass in gear and figure out what he needed to do about all his odd jobs.

"Good, keep a copy of it for us and include it with your aid forms." Cherise was glancing through the form. "I notice that there's not much here about your parents' information. That's a very significant part of the package. Is there a concern there we need to talk about?"

Ben felt his body lock up for a moment as his stomach twisted painfully tight. The dreaded moment had finally arrived – he had been debating with himself about how much information to provide. There was a taste of bile in the back of his throat as he made one last frantic pass over the statement he had rehearsed, with a quick mental curse at Qui for having talked him into this. He looked down at the floor as he tried to swallow.

His anxiety must have been obvious – Cherise reached out a hand to gently pat Ben's arm. "I want to help you, but you need to talk to me, Ben. Let's start with something simple. Are both of your parents still alive?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, they're alive, still married to each other. They live in Boston." He willed himself to breathe slowly, to gather his center as Qui had taught him in their Tai Chi sessions. Finally, he took a deep breath. "I kept looking through all the questions on the form, though, and none of them seem to really apply to me. I'm too old to be an emancipated minor and I'm not homeless."

"Alright, you're correct about the emancipated minor issue, but until you turn 25 we have to look at whether or not there are any other issues that will prevent you from receiving financial support from your family. There is one thing we can look at – it's sort of buried on the very last page." Cherise flipped pages over until she got to page ten and folded the others back out of the way. "You currently have a home and are employed full-time, right?"

Ben nodded.

"If you did not have a job, would you consider yourself at risk of being homeless and unaccompanied? Would your family provide any funds if you were not employed?"

"They won't send any money. Nothing." Ben's stomach was churning, and he felt the fingers of his left hand tapping at the seams of his jeans.

"I see. Is there any particular reason you left home, such as an abusive environment?"

Ben licked his lips. "Is everything I tell you confidential? Is there anyone else who has access to this information?"

"Initially, I will be the only who knows anything. You can submit the FAFSA without the parental information - simply leave those parts blank. I will create a confidential file for your information and put in the results of the FAFSA review when I receive them. I will then contact you to come in to make an official statement of your current life situation, make a determination on your eligibility for aid and forward my certification. There are three other people in the aid department who would potentially have access to the entire file, but the only thing anyone else will ever see is the certification of eligibility and amount of potential aid."

Ben chewed the inside of his cheek as he stared down at his stack of folders. He drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders and looked at Cherise.

"Short story is that at the end of my sophomore year in college, my father found out about a part of my life that he felt was not acceptable. He kicked me out of the house and I was on my own. I found my way out here, got a steady job and a new home. Earlier this year, I guess he wanted to make it official, disowned me and made sure I knew I had been cut out of his will."

"I am so sorry for you, Ben," she said softly. "I know none of that could have been easy. You won't need to provide any specific details about what provoked the rift, but I will eventually need to have a statement from you which basically will verify that you are estranged from your family. Access to it will be highly restricted, of course. But in conjunction with your records of rent and job history, we can establish that you are single and your own sole support. I'll be able to determine your eligibility based on your own situation with no parental support. Do you have any questions at this point?"

Ben breathed a huge internal sigh of relief, glad that Cherise did not want to pry any further. "I don't think so. But I do need to get the FAFSA and my tax return done, right? Anything else I need to do right now?"

"That's correct, the two most immediate things you need to submit are the FAFSA and your taxes, the sooner the better. Once I have the results of the FAFSA review and a copy of your return, I'll contact you to come in for a review and the personal statement. I'll also need to verify whether you will be full-time, part-time or less than part-time – for undergraduates the part-time category means you have to successfully carry six through eleven and a half credits for the semester. Twelve or more credits is full-time or less than six does not give you credit for part-time status. The number of credits you plan to carry can affect the amount of aid you may be eligible for." 

Ben nodded again.

"There is another option you may also wish to consider."

"Yes, ma'am, what would that be?" Ben was still on edge from his revelation, even though he had not had to talk about why his father had kicked him out, and forced himself to focus on her words.

"If you don't wish to apply for financial aid based on need or simply want to increase your chances of getting some help, there are a number of merit scholarships available. Some are school-wide, some are offered specifically by the Engineering Department and a few of those are targeted at transfer students."

"Oh, right. I saw some lists in the catalog, but I couldn't really figure out which ones might be applicable to me." Ben perked up a bit at this new possibility.

"It can be overwhelming. There are literally hundreds of possible scholarships of different types." Cherise smiled. "A great deal of my time goes to helping people sort those out and reviewing applications. Since you're here in person, I can give you some detailed handouts we've put together of the most pertinent ones so you won't have to download everything. We'll only cover the ones that are still available for the coming fall, but once you're enrolled there will be several others you can look at for future semesters."

"Thanks, that will be wicked helpful. I don't have much internet connectivity at home, and that'll save me a lot of time."

Cherise pulled several packets from her filing cabinet and spent the next ten minutes going over the main points of each one.

"I think that wraps things up. Remember to get your forms for everything in by the deadlines for this coming fall semester." She handed Ben one of her business cards. "This has my email address if you have any more questions."

Ben thanked her profusely as they shook hands. He was still a little shaky inside as he headed out, but at least most of it was now from facing the work he needed to get done instead of the anxiety of what personal information might be the cost of getting help.

*** ***

Qui came in just as dinner was starting and regaled them during the meal with tales of having to pull tourists with four-wheel drive vehicles out of ditches during the day. Ben did not have any clean-up chores this time, so he decamped to the basement as soon as he could. By the time Qui came down, Ben had folders and papers spread out over his desk and his laptop open with three different spreadsheets. He was chewing on the end of a pen, trying to decide which form he could actually finish. He wanted to do the FAFSA first, but he couldn't do that without all of his income tax information, and he couldn't finish the damned tax form until he could figure out what to do about the irregular income from odd jobs. Despite some of the encouraging news from earlier in the day, his mood was sour and anxious as he scowled at the piles of paper on his desk.

"Jaysus, boyo, you're looking worse than a thundercloud before the lightning strikes. Did things not go well for you at the school today? You were surely tossing and turning last night enough for a barrel full of bad dreams."

Ben turned his head up to receive Qui's kiss. "Hey, I hope I didn't keep you awake."

"Not a'tall, but I knew you were fair worried over what you might have to be telling them about why your folks won't be paying for any of your classes."

"Yeah." Ben blew out a breath. "But it mostly went pretty well, better than I thought it would."

Qui perched a hip on Ben's desk. "Useful visit, then?"

"The admissions part was easy. I actually ended up talking to an assistant dean and he said the package was good, so I don't think there will be any real issues with getting in. I'm hoping that part will be mostly just sorting out how much credit I'll be able to get for prior classes." Ben shifted papers around on his desk, not really looking at the large presence looming beside him.

"And?"

"Uh, probably as well as I could have hoped for, I guess. Aid lady was nice – she showed me how I could fill out that frigging form without having to include anything about my parents, and gave me some stuff about some scholarships I can apply for." Ben sighed. "I had a really bad moment when I had to talk about why I wouldn't be getting any money from my family, but she seemed willing to settle for just knowing there was a problem and I was kicked out. If she had insisted on knowing why, I don't think I could have talked about that. But now I need to get moving and turn in the tax return and aid forms as soon as I can." Ben grimaced. "This money stuff is a royal pain in the ass."

"But you know more now about some of your options. Surely that's progress that you've been making?"

"Yeah, yeah, but options don't put frigging money in the bank," growled Ben. "So if you would move your ass, I need to get back to work."

Qui looked like he wanted to say something, changed his mind and stood. "Sure, and I'll leave you to it, then. I need to be working out anyway." He turned to leave, paused. "Just so there's no surprises, I'll probably be gone at least two or three days next week. Got some things we have to track down," he finished vaguely before leaving the room.

Ben sat staring at the papers on his desk, then muttered, "Fuck, if it isn't one thing it's two fucking others."

*** ***

When Ben awoke Friday morning, the space in the bed next to him was empty and cold. He was already missing their morning kiss and the cuddle they occasionally had time for before he had even finished his shower. His grumpy mood was not helped when he realized that unexpected snow had arrived overnight, and he'd have to take the bus in.

It was a slow day at work. Ben was meticulously making his way, piece by piece, through the trike conversion. Kaz came in about nine for his second day of work and Frank walked him through a ten percent monthly inventory, the familiar talk about using Quality Assurance checklists on every job and the shop cleanup duties he would be helping with.

For much of the rest of the day, Frank had Kaz tearing down and rebuilding the old Harley Davidson motorcycle they had pulled from the warehouse. Ben would glance over occasionally or overhear them, repressing an unbecoming pang of jealousy at the amount of attention the 'new guy' was getting. He also saw Kaz frequently using the rolling stool Frank had added, and kept wondering what was up with that.

By late afternoon, Ben had made decent progress on the conversion and was a little heartened when Frank spot-checked his results and was pleased. He and Frank then went to Frank's office for a quick review of the schedule for the next couple of weeks.

As Ben was coming out of the office, he saw a woman leaning over the open half of the dutch door that led to the front of the building. She was almost his height, slender and athletic with short, light brown hair and brown eyes. In her arms was a young child and she had a huge smile on her face as she waved at Kaz.

Kaz looked up from bike he was rebuilding again, and an answering smile lit his face. He stood and walked slowly over, giving the woman a big hug across the door.

"Hey, Ben, want you to meet my wife," Kaz called, pride and happiness clearly evident in his voice.

"Ben, this is my wife Cynthia and my boy Howard. Howie will be three next month. Cynthia, this is Ben Kennan. Ben's kind of like the non-com in charge for Frank."

Ben and Cynthia shook hands and Ben made appropriate words about how pretty she was and what a nice boy Howard was. 

Cynthia was clearly bursting with something she wanted to say and finally blurted out, "Lots of good news, honey. VA called and said your new leg is in. We need to make an appointment for the fitting and then extra physical therapy.”

“That's fantastic. I sure hope it fits better than this flippin' one.” Kaz's smile got even wider as he grabbed his wife for another hug.

Ben's jaw hung slightly open. "Uh, did you say leg?"

Cynthia put one hand to her mouth. "Oh dear, did I just screw up?"

"No, no, honey. It's alright." Kaz looked around, an arm still around her waist. "Hey, Ben, is there somewhere we can all talk?"

"Sure, we can use the small conference room just down the hall. It should be empty right now."

There was an uncomfortable silence as they walked to the room and sat down. Cynthia pulled some crayons and a coloring book out of her backpack and Howard happily attacked a page.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think before speaking," said Cynthia. "It's just I knew how much you've been looking forward to this…"

"It's not a problem. Ben really should know about it anyway." Kaz took one of her hands before facing Ben. "Look, Ben, there's a couple of things that I want to be up front about. Frank said I didn't need to tell anyone, but I don't feel right hiding things. First off, over in Afghanistan I was out on a recovery mission for some of Captain Jones' trucks that had been attacked and shot up. I had to pull two of his guys out from an overturned truck and one of those damned IEDs took off part of my left leg as well as the fingers when we were doing that."

Kaz pulled up his coverall and jeans leg to show his artificial foot attached to the hard plastic limb. 

"I spent six months in DC getting everything put together and learning to walk with a fake leg. They said I was lucky I was able to keep my knee, but a lot of the time it still hurts like a mofo. I'll be doing physical therapy for at least several more months, and things are slowly getting better." Kaz leaned forward a little. "It's real important to me that I pull my weight. I saw how you kind of looked at me for using the stool, but that's just to help me keep working. I am dead serious when I say that I want you to tell me if you ever think I'm not doing my fair share of the work, okay?"

Ben was feeling very uncomfortable, especially about his earlier attitude. "Jesus, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the leg, but it makes sense if you need help." He remembered some things Qui had told him months ago and decided to follow suit. "Tell you what, I'll let you know if I think you're not cutting it if you tell me when you need help." 

"Okay, fair enough." Kaz nodded. "The other thing I wanted to tell you, I've been in your position when I was in the Army. I had to be the one in charge when older guys came in, and some of them knew more than me, or in a few cases just thought they did. I'm not here to take your job or tell you how to do stuff. There's gonna be some things I know more about, but there's a lot you know that I don't about this motorcycle business and how Midway likes things done. This is your place, your work home if you want to think of it that way, and I'm no freaking home wrecker. We good on that?"

"Yeah, we're good." Ben had a self-deprecating smile as he shifted a little in his chair. "I guess I was kind of worried about that, but didn't want to talk about it. I'm not stupid and I know I still have a lot to learn about a lot of things, but this place is important to me. I appreciate what you're doing. It'll be pisser if we can all just work together to get the job done."

"Roger that," said Kaz. "The Army taught me to be mission oriented, so that's fine with me. I don’t like to make a big deal about the leg, I just want to do a good job, and I appreciate the help you and Frank are giving me. A lot of people talk about helping us vets, but not so many are willing to take a chance on giving us decent jobs."

"Yeah, Midway’s good about helping people. They gave me my start here when I was way down on my luck. You work hard for them, and they take care of you."

"Cool, good to know." 

Cynthia had been sitting near Kaz, holding his hand but keeping an occasional eye on their son. She looked admiringly at her husband, but still had an air of repressed excitement.

"Alright, I know that look, honey," said Kaz. "You got something else you want to tell me, right?"

Cynthia leaned forward. "I got confirmation on the pregnancy test today. We’re going to have another baby!"

Kaz looked stunned for a moment, then whooped and hugged her tight. "This is so great. God has answered our prayers." He kissed Cynthia.

When he calmed down a bit, Kaz turned to Ben, a huge grin still on his face. "We’ve been trying for months because we want so much to have a bigger family, brothers or sisters for Howie. This is just so fantastic." 

"Congratulations. I hope everything goes well for you."

"I just know it will. I tell you, Ben, I don't care about the leg or money or any of the rest of it as long as I've got my family. We'll work hard and keep praying. That's what life is about." 

Ben excused himself to go back to the bay and let Kaz have some time with his wife. He felt like he needed a chance to digest everything he had just heard, and especially to figure out some of his own assumptions and attitudes.

*** ***

At dinner that night, Ben was very unobtrusive and let others lead the lively conversation. Liz and Linda were over, and Linda was telling a long story about an illustrating job she'd worked on recently for a children's book collaboration. Her writing partner had tax problems and kept fending off calls and letters from the IRS. They finally went out to the woods to his cousin's cabin to work on the story, but the writer kept calling back about the tax stuff. Linda had finally taken away his cell phone and locked the door to the cabin to get him to concentrate long enough to finish the story.

"Lordy, Ben, but you're awful quiet tonight," said Linda. "A body would think you had tax problems of your own with that long face."

"Uh, well, I thought my taxes were going to be easy this year, but I kind of do have something I'm trying to figure out and I can't find any answers in that miserable Pub 17. It's pretty frustrating."

"If it's relatively basic, perhaps I can help you resolve it." Liz set down her fork and turned to look at Ben. "I'm a certified tax volunteer for the senior center and church. It's a little job I began by helping my soldiers when I was in the Army." She added dryly, "I can certainly sympathize with your difficulty in trying to decipher IRS documents. If you don't know the specific official words they use, it can be difficult to find answers."

"It's really just one big question I have. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I enjoy helping people, Ben, and I don't mind at all. What is your question?"

"Okay." Ben took a deep breath in case the answer was even worse than he wanted to hear. "Most of my income last year was from working at Midway and I've got the W2 forms, so I figured I would just be using the short form. But then I realized I had several odd jobs last spring, mostly just cash payments and a little bit of in-kind stuff like helping in Jane's garden for some rent reduction. When I started reading the Pub 17, it looked like I've got to do a long form and pay self-employment tax. I don't mind paying my fair share if I have to, but that sounded like an awful lot of paperwork and more taxes."

"I see. Yes, with just one job and the W2, you should be able to get by with just the 1040EZ. Very simple, one page and you are done. As for the extra income, do you know what the total amount in cash and kind was?"

"Yes, ma'am. I kept a spreadsheet for everything and I calculated it out as $372."

"You are in luck, then, Ben. As long as the total is less than $400, you don't have to report it all. Just use the 1040EZ for your Midway income as you had already planned to do."

Ben stared for a moment, his mouth partially open. "Huh? That's it? Just ignore it?" He thought of all the worrying and agonizing he had done and felt pretty stupid when it was such a simple answer in the end. He finally remembered to close his mouth. "Wow." He blew out a big sigh of relief.

"Yes. And I suspect you're eligible for at least some level of the Earned Income Credit, so you can claim that on the 1040EZ." Liz then rattled off several page numbers from Pub 17 and some other IRS documents if Ben needed any more information.

"That is just wicked fantastic. I was really worrying about it, but now I feel a lot better. Thanks for the help." He carefully avoided looking at Qui, not wanting to encounter even a hint of an 'I told you you should ask for help' on his face.

"You're welcome. On that high note, I am ready for some of Jane's incredible lemon pie."

*** ***

Ben and Rafa had cleanup after dinner. Ben was washing and she was drying as Jane was getting out cards and some paper for scorekeeping.

"You okay with sitting in on the game?" asked Ben quietly.

"Oh, yes. They're teaching me a lot about how to play bridge and they're all very supportive, even though I'm not very good."

"How do you like it so far?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet." Rafa frowned slightly, her lips pursed as she ran the dish towel around a large pot. "I think I'll like it better when I can play better, if you know what I mean. But I want to learn because Jane loves bridge so much, and I'd like to be able to do something nice for her occasionally."

Ben just nodded and they finished in companionable silence.

On his way to the basement, Ben took the stairs slowly. Although he was pleased with the news about his tax situation, it was only one piece of the money issues whirling around in his head.

Ben went into the basement and carefully locked the door behind him. Qui was sitting at his desk in the main area, his back to Ben. Even from where he was, Ben could see the distinctive tax forms.

Ben stood quietly for a while, watching as Qui worked. He was sure Qui knew he was there – there was nothing wrong with that man's situational awareness.

"Can I be helping you with something?" Qui asked the question without stopping his task.

The wary neutrality of Qui's tone and the absence of a 'Ben' or even a 'boyo' in his question set off an alarm and epiphany in Ben's head. Words and images crashed into him as if the heavens had opened up and dropped buckets of water on him – Qui's nudging him to look outside himself for assistance, his fixation on money and even letting that screw up their Tai Chi session, his reluctance to seek help and the help others had given him so freely, making him feel as if they wanted to make his life better rather than it just being a job, his continuing to growl at Qui. And Kaz, who didn't care about his pain or money but was happy with what he did have. Even Rafa, willing to put up with being bad at something if she could get good enough to make someone else happy.

God, he had been such a selfish asshole! Again!

An icy wave of remorse washed through Ben as two fingers involuntarily touched the spot under his shirt where the claddagh emblem hung, hidden on its silver chain. He swallowed hard as he dropped his hand and forced himself to walk over to stand next to Qui. He cleared his throat.

"I, uh, owe you an apology about the way I've been behaving lately. I guess I've still got a lot of that stick up my ass about pride and money and being independent."

Qui very deliberately set his pen down and turned in his chair.

"Aye, you do." Qui raised one eyebrow. "You're starting to get better, and you've got some legitimate concerns, but you still don't always accept help graciously inside, even when you're being polite on the outside. And you don't like talking to me when you have issues."

Ben's face grew red and hot, but Qui's expression dared him to challenge the frank assessment, and he forced himself to hold back his first acerbic response.

"Ahhh… okay, yeah, you're right." Ben bit his lower lip for a moment as he stared down at the floor, then let it slide out as he gave a strangled sigh. 

Qui stood up and put his hands on Ben's shoulders.

"Ben, you need to be remembering that you are a good person and that I love you. But it bothers me when you're getting so self-absorbed and don't want to be seeking or accepting help, even when you're legitimately entitled to that help. It hurts more when you stop talking to me about your problems and where you want to go with your life."

Throat tight, Ben blindly reached out and accepted the fierce hug Qui pulled him into.

"I'm so sorry," whispered Ben, his arms close around his mate. "I love you and I want it to be our life, together. I never mean to shut you out."

"I know, boyo, I know," said Qui soothingly. "I love you, too, but we're both still learning about each other and what it means to live together, to be an 'us' instead of a you and a me."

They held the hug in silence for another minute, swaying slightly.

Qui reached up and ran a hand through Ben's hair.

Ben leaned his head back, closing his eyes as Qui kissed him. 

"I've got to be going in at an ungodly hour in the morning." Qui kissed Ben again. "What would you be saying to making an early evening of it now?"

"I would be saying that 'tis a fine idea."

Qui laughed. "Dibs on the bathroom first." He grinned, gave a light tap to Ben's chest and headed for the bathroom.

Ben took advantage of the time to remove his sneakers and socks, pull back the covers and make sure there was plenty of lube and towels on the night stand. Once it was his turn, he made quick work of his evening ablutions.

Ben stopped short when he entered the bedroom. He breathed through his open mouth as he watched the long lean length of his lover's body lying on the bed, eyes closed as he stretched, and clearly enjoying the sensual experience. Qui was clad only his usual grey boxer-briefs, the soft material revealing the large bulge.

Qui opened his eyes and let the barest hint of a smile tickle his lips. He let his gaze travel up and down Ben's body once before swinging around and standing.

"Overdressed you are, me boyo." Qui advanced toward Ben. "We need to be doing something about that." He took possession of Ben's head, one hand on each side, and immobilized him while he delivered a deep, searing kiss that seemed to go on forever.

Ben let himself melt into the kiss. He closed his eyes, and his world was reduced to two hands and the mouth ravaging his. When Qui finally pulled back a little, it was all he could do to suck in several rapid breaths and keep his knees from buckling. He reached for Qui.

"Not so fast, boyo," breathed Qui. He captured Ben's hands and held them down as he placed tiny kisses all over Ben's face, moving up and down, detouring to Ben's ears where unexpected plunges had Ben shivering and gasping.

Qui nuzzled lower, biting and sucking Ben's throat, tonguing the skin below the neck of his t-shirt. He ran the side of his face down Ben's front, butting at his belly, then using his teeth to pull the front of his shirt up. He slipped his head inside the soft material.

Ben moaned as Qui dipped a tongue into his belly button, then began kissing his way upward. He twisted helplessly in Qui's grip as his lover worked each nipple in turn, biting, kissing, sucking, until both were hard and red.

Before Ben could react, Qui had whipped off his t-shirt and hobbled his hands behind his back. Qui pulled him close, bare chest to Ben's bare back. He put one arm around Ben and spread his huge hand across Ben's belly.

"Ye listen good, boyo. You're not liking anything I do, you tell me no and I'll stop. You understand that?"

"Right, got it. No means you stop." Ben was still sucking in air, now wondering what the hell was going on.

Qui leaned very close, his mouth at Ben's ear. Deep and low, his honeyed gravel voice whispered, "Your sexy little arse is mine tonight, boyo. But you'll have to be earning that pleasure."

A burning flash swept through Ben, and he quivered in Qui's hold. This was a side of Qui he had seldom seen and that voice, those words, were turning him on in ways he had never imagined or expected. His cock was already expanding. He leaned back into Qui.

"Oh, God. Yes, sir, yes, sir. Anything you want."

Qui proceeded to turn him into a pile of writhing mush. Hands and tongue roamed at will, over face, neck, back, nipples and belly.

Ben quickly found that the t-shirt was stretchy enough that he could easily escape if he wanted to, but he was enjoying the proceedings so much he added a couple of extra twists to make sure his hands wouldn't accidentally come out. He moaned enthusiastically, with an extra loud exclamation every time that wet tongue slipped around and into an ear.

Ben cried out when Qui touched the top button of his jeans, and he shoved his hips forward. A resounding slap on his rear brought his moans down only a few decibels. His frustration grew as Qui took his own sweet time inching the zipper down.

Qui picked Ben up with a growl and dropped him on the bed, face up. He ripped jeans and shorts off together and tossed them aside, letting Ben's cock spring up, already hard. He took a few steps back and stood with his hands on his hips.

"Well, isn't that lovely. My pretty boy seems to be enjoying himself."

Ben gave his hips an impudent shake and grinned.

Qui wagged a finger. "Now, now, we can't be having that. I've been doing all the work, ya randy little git, and it's time you started paying the piper." He grabbed Ben and put him on his knees at the foot of the bed, then stretched out on the bed, one foot on either side of Ben. "Use your bloody tongue for something worthwhile."

Ben shifted a little, licking his lips as he surveyed the vast expanse of flesh ready for his feasting. He decided to start with the closest thing, his mate's right ankle. He kissed the top, then quickly gave a few slurps on his way to Qui's knee, shuffling carefully along. Ben awkwardly twisted his head, then feathered little licks around the sensitive inside spot he knew was there.

"Jaysus, ya bloody arsehole." Qui twitched and spread his legs wide, moving his right one out of reach.

Ben smirked and quickly moved higher. He licked under the bottom edge of Qui's boxer-briefs, pushing them upward. He grazed on the fabric, working his way around the growing bulge, rewarded by a groan as he pushed harder. After a few minutes, Ben decided to change track. He heaved himself up and managed to get one knee outside of each of Qui's hips.

Lowering his center of balance, Ben began working his way across Qui's stomach, making Qui's muscles quiver and roll. He slowly moved upward, his new position having the advantage of allowing his somewhat softened erection to trail along above Qui's body, sliding against Qui's crotch. By the time Ben reached Qui's nipples, his cock was nicely aligned along Qui's bulge. By subtly rocking his body, Ben was enjoying some very nice friction. He was also definitely enjoying the small moans he was eliciting as he worked hard to nibble and lick the now-hard nubs and then the base of Qui's neck.

Qui grabbed the back of Ben's head and pulled him down for a hard kiss. The sudden full skin to skin contact sent sharp tingles running through his body as Qui had his way with his mouth. His hips started to move, but Qui wrapped both legs around him and forced him to lie still.

A sudden shove sideways put Ben on his back. "Put your lazy arse to work and get the shorts off," came the curt command.

Ben rolled and got himself up onto his knees. "Your wish is my command, o great one." The cheeky reply earned him a loud stinging swat to his rear. Ben was still grinning as he bent to use his teeth to get hold of the waistband and start tugging.

There was some awkward maneuvering, as Ben had to tug, get a new hold and tug again. Qui relented to the extent of raising his hips and Ben was finally able to pull the offending garment all the way off. He sat up on his haunches and tossed the briefs onto the floor.

"Ya be wanting that cock wet when it goes up your arse ya better be getting to it."

Ben did not for a second believe that Qui would forego using his usual generous amounts of lube, but he played along and gave a plausibly terrified little squeak, "Yes, sir," and shuffled swiftly back inside Qui's legs, his own cock swinging back and forth.

Without the use of his hands, Ben had to improvise a bit from his usual techniques. He started with the head, running his tongue around the rim, dipping into the wet slit, then alternating with long sweeps from the head to the root. He was thrilled to feel it harden under his ministrations and increased his efforts until he had Qui groaning. Ben nuzzled down into the dark thatch at the base of Qui's erection, inhaling the heady musk of the large balls as he sucked in first one, then the other, before starting back up the long length. Sweat was stinging his eyes from the hot, closed-in space and his shoulders were starting to feel the strain, but the groans and involuntary hip spasms he was drawing from Qui were well worth it.

A hand in his hair forced Ben's head up. He blinked a few times until he could see Qui's upper body – the lean chest was heaving as Qui took in several deep breaths, and trickles of sweat meandered down the sides of his face.

"Not bad, boyo," Qui finally gasped out. He took a few more gulps of air before scrambling to his hands and knees. "Shift your arse over."

Ben obediently moved to the edge of the bed, tingling with anticipation as he watched Qui plump up three pillows and cover them with a large towel. He flicked his tongue out, catching a salty dribble, his nostrils flaring as Qui looked at him with a possessive glare.

"Move," snarled Qui, gesturing at the pillows. "Get that arse up."

Ben breathed in through his nose as he shifted to position himself. He hesitated as he stared down at the towel until a slap on his ass hard enough to make him yelp drove him forward. He flopped over onto his belly, his rear up in the air. He had a momentary spike of fear as the vulnerability of his position hit him, hands still tied behind his back, until he remembered who he was with and the fear changed to excitement.

"Such a pretty arse, just waiting for me to fuck it." Qui's voice was deep and husky as he stroked and kneaded the two round globes. "So soft, so sexy."

Ben's stomach fluttered and he could hear blood rushing through his head. He felt the slow glide of Qui's hands as his mate began caressing his sides, hips, thighs. He whimpered with need when a tongue slid along his crack, tickled his opening and left a wet trail cooled by the air. 

A stinging blow drove Ben down into the pillows, catching his erection between his body and the bed. He groaned with frustration, but was also turned on by Qui's dominance and his low wordless growl. He felt his legs being pushed wide, reinforcing his vulnerability. A hand reached between his legs and fondled his testicles.

"What are ya wanting?" Qui rested one hand at the base of Ben's spine.

"Want you to fuck me," said Ben, his voice thick and dark.

A rough finger entered his ass, making Ben cry out. "Ya have to be asking nicer than that." The finger rested just inside Ben's opening.

"Please, sir, please fuck me." Ben tried vainly to push himself back onto the intruder, but it withdrew as did the hand squeezing his balls. He groaned.

Ben felt hands fumbling with the t-shirt around his wrists, a frustrated growl apparently at the extra twists he had added, then a grunt as the fabric was torn free. He brought his arms down, rotated his shoulders a few times before resting his head on his forearms.

A cold dollop of lube in his crack had the perverse effect of sending a spike of heat pulsing through him. He felt Qui lifting his hips, and his erection slapped his stomach.

More lube, a slick finger pushing inside him. Ben wiggled his hips as one finger became two, slowly rotating as they widened him. Yet more lube and within moments a third finger. Anticipation built again in Ben's belly, and his blood ran hot.

A familiar spark of lightning flashed when the fingers were replaced by a hard cock. Ben went still except for rapid breathing as he waited for the slow but steady progress into his body to be completed and he felt the full contact of balls against balls.

Mutual groans of satisfaction filled the air.

"Jaysus, so fucking tight."

Ben squeezed and released, his eyes closed. Again and again, Qui withdrew his cock, held it just inside for a moment, then plunged back in. 

"God, yeah, fuck me," cried Ben as he fell into Qui's rhythm, pushing back as Qui drove. He barely felt the grip of Qui's hands on his hips as they moved, in and out, back and forth.

"Aahghgh!" Ben moaned, a high keening, as Qui changed his angle and scraped across his sweet spot. He could feel the pressure building in his gut and his balls as Qui moved faster.

A slick hand reached around to grab his cock. Qui pounded harder, short strong strokes, Ben caught in the middle between the cock invading him and the hand fisting his own cock.

Faster, harder, fire in his veins, babbling moans of pleasure, thunder of blood.

White light exploded as bodies arched, trembling on the crest of the tsunami, then lost in the flood of ecstasy.

When Ben drifted back to awareness, the light was very dim, a bare grayness from the bedroom window. The scent of sex hung in the air, although he realized the sweat and semen had been wiped from his body. He was resting on his back in his usual place on the bed. 

"Ben?"

It took a few moments for Ben to gather his thoughts. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?"

Ben did a vague inventory. "A little sore, I guess."

"I meant are you alright about what just happened?"

"Sure." Ben thought a moment. "Uh… were you pissed at me 'cause I fucked up again or just in one of your moods?"

"Not sure… probably some of both. I need to think about what happened." Qui's voice sounded contrite. "I'm sorry, wasn't meaning to be quite that rough."

"'S okay, you weren't." Ben snuggled closer to Qui. "Honestly, it kind of turned me on, which I didn't expect. Wouldn't want to do it all the time, but yeah, it was okay. I trusted you when you said you'd stop if I said no." He turned on his side to face Qui. "You think maybe we could experiment with some other stuff some time? Maybe try out those toys in the box, too?"

"If that's what you want, we can do that. I like experimenting, but I didn't want to push too hard if that's not what you're into."

"Mmmmm, yeah," said Ben, fighting the pull of sleep. "Different stuff… that's good. Maybe do some chocolate chip instead of vanilla sex… or rocky road…" 

Ben drifted off and missed Qui's snort of amusement, but he had a warm feeling as Qui kissed his forehead and held him close.

_finis_


End file.
